


Harrassment

by The9thDoctor



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst and Humor, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-01
Updated: 2011-11-01
Packaged: 2017-10-25 14:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The9thDoctor/pseuds/The9thDoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite what some think, there are billions of people that Jack hasn't slept with... Yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harrassment

Despite what some think, there are billions of people that Jack hasn't slept with.

 

A lot of them have never been on the list to start with – there were absolutely NO circumstances that would see Jack Harkness and Jade Goody sharing sexy naked time, but there are a few people that pain Jack with their unavailability.

 

Ianto bloody Jones for a start.

 

He was doing it again, thought Jack as he stared out of his office window. There ought to be rules against that sort of thing – bending over in a manner likely to cause a breach of the peace, maybe.

 

Or possibly just a breach in Jack's trousers.

 

It was maddening. Chaps in suits shouldn't go rolling around on other chaps if they weren't going to follow up on their promises, Jack decided.

 

He folded his arms as Ianto scooped up an empty pizza box in a way that had surely been banned by the Geneva Convention.

 

Suzie didn't even seem to notice the tightening of cloth across Ianto's arse when he reached up to dust the top of Owen's computer monitor. Was she blind?

 

Jack sagged slightly in his chair and narrowed his eyes. He needed a plan, he needed a fool-proof scheme that would allow him to delve beneath Ianto's suit and rid himself of all this entirely unnecessary fuss. It was distracting. Surely it was a matter of national security!

 

He smiled to himself and checked the time. In roughly thirty seconds Ianto would present him with a fresh cup of coffee. It was time to act.

 

 

“Sir,” said Ianto smoothly, giving the desk a brief wipe before depositing a steaming mug in front of Jack.

 

“Ianto?” asked Jack, concentrating on his breathing. Suited Welsh crotches in close proximity to his head usually caused him to begin hyperventilating if he didn't keep a close eye on his natural reactions.

 

“Sir?” Ianto replied, taking a depressing step backwards.

 

“Could I, uh, see you later?” Jack mumbled, still having a little trouble with thinking in a straight line. “When everyone has gone?”

 

Ianto adjusted his cufflinks. “Of course, Sir.” he said, “I shall be with you as soon as I have locked up the Tourist office and fed Myfanwy. If that would be convenient.”

 

Jack smiled. He had a horrible suspicion that it made him look like an escaped mental patient, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. “That would be fine, Ianto... Lovely, even. I'll look forward to it.”

 

Ianto's only reply to that was an upturned eyebrow and another round of deferential Sir-ing.

 

 

Jack spent the rest of the day learning how quickly he could re-tune the Hub's CCTV camera footage as he followed Ianto around the building. He lost him for an hour or so when Ianto vanished into the archives, and Jack grudgingly got on with some paperwork until he rediscovered the Welshman leaning provocatively against the counter in the Tourist Information Office and shuffling through a stack of leaflets. 

 

 

Five o'clock found Jack practising nonchalant poses in preparation for Ianto's visit. Should he lean back in his chair, teasing a biro between his teeth? Prop his feet on the desk? Ruffle his hair and attempt the 'hard-working-yet-readily-available-saviour-of-mankind' look?

 

It was tricky to know what would work best – Perhaps he should put his coat on? That had been a big hit with Ianto, hadn't it?

 

He tapped his pen on his blotter as he considered his options, but a mistimed beat caused it to spill out of his hand and drop to the floor and Jack bent to retrieve it.

 

Which was why he cracked his head on the underside of his desk when Ianto knocked on the office door.

 

“Ow!” Jack yelled.

 

“Sir?”

 

Jack froze for a second before peering out between the legs of his chair. Ianto was bent over his desk, and looking at him with an expression that was as close to hilarity as Jack had ever seen on his face before.

 

“Dare I ask?” enquired Ianto, dryly.

 

Jack waved his pen in front of him in defence. “I dropped my biro.” he explained, crawling backwards and emerging from his hiding place.

 

“Of course, Sir.”

 

“I really did.” Jack felt the need to defend his actions, in case Ianto thought he was in the habit of hiding under period furniture between alien invasions.

 

Ianto looked affronted. “I daresay you did, Sir.”

 

Jack decided that his best course of action would be to ignore the previous few minutes of his life and stood up, tugging his shirt back into place. “Well,” he announced as brightly as he could be with embarrassingly dusty knees, “Take a seat.”

 

Ianto insinuated himself into the chair facing Jack.

 

Jack's mind suddenly went blank. He had an awful feeling that simply enquiring if Ianto would mind terribly if Jack bent him backwards over his desk with the aim of giving him a good, hard, rogering would be met with a polite refusal. It was time for subtle.

 

“Ianto.” he said, playing for time.

 

“Sir?”

 

Jack took a deep breath. “Ianto...” he honestly meant to continue that sentence in a logical and coherent way, but Ianto took the opportunity to cross his long, lean, tightly trousered, muscular legs and Jack's brain went to his private happy place. Unfortunately it seemed to have left his cock behind to do all the thinking. “Fuck me?...”

 

To Ianto's credit his reaction was minimal, to say the least: A slightly more surprised eyebrow and the omission of a 'Sir' at the end of “I BEG your pardon!?” seemed to be it.

 

Time for Jack to make the best of a bad job. He couldn't deny that he had been angling to be the one doing the fucking, and that he hadn't actually meant to ask in that particular way, but hey, Ianto hadn't actually said 'No.' and Jack always took that as a Good Thing.

 

“Err... I said, 'Fuck me?'” Jack repeated, grinning.

 

“Oh.” Ianto replied. Still no 'No' Jack noticed. “This is a little sudden, isn't it, Sir?”

 

Jack gaped. “Sudden?!” he said, stunned. “Sudden? How is this sudden, Mr Stalky-Like-The-Coat, over there?”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Yes, 'Ah', honestly... You start following people in a well cut suit and they're bound to assume that you're up for it. Unless that erection I felt was in honour of Myfanwy – at which point, I'm not entirely comfortable being in the same room as you.”

 

Ianto bit his lip. Jack was glad he was already sitting down. “I'm not sure what to say, Sir.”

 

“Well, for starters you should probably stop calling me 'Sir'.”

 

Ianto stared at Jack. It reminded him of a startled deer. A startled deer that had just been propositioned by its boss. Finally he managed a mumbled “Is that an order?”

 

Jack impressed himself by remaining calm. “Why on Earth would it be an order?”

Ianto flushed an interesting shade of pink. It made Jack wonder if he would turn a similar colour while on the receiving end of a blow-job. “Well...” Ianto finally managed to stutter out. “Well, I, uh... Well...”

 

It was Jack's turn to roll his eyes. The start of this conversation had got away from him but he was determined to regain control of it. “I'll accept 'Yes' or 'No', Ianto. Obviously, I'd prefer 'Yes', but it's not like I'm going to fire you if you don't want to.”

 

“Well, in that case...” Ianto started, and Jack was utterly convinced that he was moments away from loosening his tie, shedding his jacket and sprawling artistically across Jack's office furniture. “I respectfully decline, Sir.”

 

Jack's face fell. “No?” he asked. “No?”

 

“No.”

 

Jack pouted, but he was a man of the world. Some people liked to play hard to get, it was an unfortunate fact of life. “Right, well... Had to ask, and all.” he mumbled, trying to find some reports to move from one side of his desk to the other.

 

“May I go now, Sir?” Ianto asked, pushing himself up from his chair. “There are some things in the archives I would like to attend to before I leave for the night.”

 

Jack waved a regal hand. “Of course, of course... Hope they all involve low shelves.”

 

Ianto looked puzzled by that, but left the office without further comment.

 

 

As far as Jack could see, Ianto's adventures in the archives didn't seem to involve any shelves at all. The CCTV coverage was patchy to say the least – mainly focussing on the entrances and some of the more major routes between them. Jack made a mental note to increase the security, especially in places that Ianto was likely to linger. He cycled though the cameras again, but to no avail. Whatever Ianto was filing was out of perving range. Jack tutted to himself, and leaving the CCTV footage running, went to find a roof.

 

 

The week following Jack and Ianto's little meeting was rather fraught. There were several ill-timed rift alarms, three of which ended in Jack covered in a variety of distasteful gunge and one ending in a particularly painful twelve storey drop.

 

Jack was half-sure that his leg still hadn't re-aligned properly after that last one, it tended to click when he walked down stairs.

 

It was clicking now, as he wandered down to the archives to search out Ianto. Ostensibly he was going to ask for some files on the creature that had just exploded in the Sewerage plant, but Jack – alert as always to the sexual magnetism of being mostly topless and slightly shower-damp, had several other things on his mind besides paperwork.

 

He wondered if Ianto had noticed what he had been up to while the Welshman was out of sight. Jack supposed he must have, especially when he relocated all of Ianto's coffee supplies to the cupboard under the sink and shifted his desk a few, but significant, feet to the left, but Ianto hadn't yet returned them to their original location.

 

Now THAT was teasing.

 

He was pondering the important subject of what Ianto's new red tie would look like wrapped round his wrists instead of his neck when he walked slap bang into the object of his dubious affection.

Ianto lay sprawled on the floor at Jack's feet.

 

Jack bit the inside of his cheek and valiantly pushed back several other interesting ideas that were now clamouring for attention. “Ah, Ianto. There you are.”

 

Ianto looked up at him with an expression of mixed horror and exasperation.

 

“What are you doing down here?” Ianto asked, his gaze lingering no doubt on the expanse of manly chest that Jack was presenting.

 

“Looking for you.” Jack replied, holding out a hand to help Ianto up. Ianto ignored it and pushed himself to his feet on his own.

 

“You're sneaking about!”

 

“I live here, Ianto. I can hardly sneak around my own house, can I?”

 

Ianto looked worried and dug his hands into his pockets. Jack grinned as the material pulled taut across Ianto's crotch. “What can I do for you?”

 

Jack scoffed, “Have you got an hour or so? I wrote a list.” Something was nagging at the back of his mind – something was different, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

 

An eyebrow flickered. “I'm quite sure you did.”

 

A light came on in Jack's brain and he stepped closer to his prey, “You've stopped calling me 'Sir', Ianto.” he pointed out happily. As interesting a concept as it would be to have Ianto calling him 'Sir' in bed, even Jack had to admit that it probably wasn't the best start to a potential sexual relationship.

 

Ianto scowled and tried to move out of range. “You surprised me... Sir.” he ground out.

 

Jack sighed. “That wasn't what I meant, Ianto. In fact, I would prefer it if you called me Jack. I've told you that before.” he took another step closer. A quick glance over Ianto's shoulder told him that he was only a couple of feet away from pressing Ianto up against a thankfully sturdy looking cabinet.

 

Ianto glanced away down the corridor to his right, and then back at Jack. “I don't like people messing with the archives, Sir. If you need anything then perhaps you will be good enough to stay in your office and ask me to fetch them up for you.”

 

Jack leant in closer. “I like messing with the archives... I don't suppose you've changed your mind about my question, have you?” he whispered in his best seductive tone.

 

Ianto appeared to remain immune for a short while, but then a shudder ran through him and with another quick look to the right, fixed Jack with such a disgustingly dirty smile that Jack found himself wondering when he had stepped into the parallel universe.

 

“Well, Sir...” Ianto all but purred, “As long as it's not in the cellar, I think I could be persuaded to rethink my earlier stance on the matter.”

 

“I'm good at persuading people.” agreed Jack with a wolfish grin.

 

Ianto reached up and patted Jack on the cheek. “Yes, you are.”

 

“It's a talent.”

 

Ianto smiled his newly discovered filthy grin again and gently shoved Jack in the direction of the main Hub. “It is... Now, why don't you go upstairs and make yourself comfortable? I'll be up in a moment. I've just got a few more things to sort out down here...”

 

 

Jack didn't stop to question Ianto's rapid change of view, the dark circles under the young man's eyes, or the haunted expression on his face – there were still billions of people Jack hadn't slept with, and at that moment, all he had been interested in was lowering the number by one – and that was the only thing that he has ever regretted.


End file.
